


Any Mountain

by Kaitecha



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Body Image, Body Worship, Canon Compliant, Comfort, Fluff, For the most part anyway?, M/M, Panic Attacks, Power Bottom Katsuki Yuuri, Swimsuits, Weight Issues, a little bit, stretch marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-07
Updated: 2016-12-07
Packaged: 2018-09-07 02:11:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8779042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaitecha/pseuds/Kaitecha
Summary: Viktor had built him up and now Yuuri could conquer mountains. Every mountain except one, he thought.





	

Yuuri Katsuki’s kryptonite was confidence. All of the skill. None of the confidence.

Of course, Viktor had made good on his promise a hundred times over to change that. They had a gold medal to show for it. Viktor had built him up and now Yuuri could conquer mountains. _Every mountain except one_ , he thought. Now that he was retired from figure skating, his chubby waist was back. The chubby waist Viktor had immediately told him to work off when they’d first met. Without constant training, Yuuri couldn’t keep evidence of hearty food and leisurely Sundays away. When he was slim Viktor had been making love to stretch marks, but Yuuri’s concerns were distinctly different now.

“Katsudon!”

An inflatable beach ball struck Yuuri’s chest with vigor and he looked up. Yurio’s angry blonde head was veering toward him, torso outstretched from the edge of the pool.

“Give it here and for shit’s sake, help me out! Viktor and Yuko are too tall!”

“You’re simply too short, Yurio!” Viktor beamed from the other end of the pool.

“I’ll **drown** you!”

Yuuri’s eyes traveled over to the source of his lover’s voice. Viktor Nikiforov, who after a figure skating career and twenty nine years still looked like a marble statue. Chiseled and slim but with strong shoulders jutting out of teal water. A blue not unlike the blue of his eyes. Silver hair growing out to someday match the length he’d had during the Junior Worlds. Once hailed as the most perfect bachelor in the skating world.

Yuuri took just a heartbeat’s worth of time to remember the contrast between their relationship now and the relationships he’d had with his posters of the man at twelve years old.

Yuko looked slim, too. It had taken her some time and serious effort, but she’d worked back to a size she loved to flaunt at Ice Castle and there she was. She was so devoted and active in being a mother that she’d worked off everything extra. She wore her ruby two piece with bolstered confidence.

The triplets were sprawled out on a blanket nearby, reading something on her touch screen.

_“Yuko, what did you do when you weren’t happy with your body? Did you cover it up?”_

_“Well, yeah. A bit. But never with the girls or my husband. To be honest, I was totally happy with my body. Getting fit just seemed like the right move. If I stayed chubby forever I would have been happy.”_

“Seriously, Yuuri! It’d be waaay more interesting with you out here!” Yuko called.

“I’ll just stay here,” Yuuri replied, pulling the collar of his jacket away from his chest a bit to get some air. “I’m not really in the mood for swimming. I’m enjoying watching you.”

“Lame excuse,” Yurio spat. “He just doesn’t want to compete with Viktor.”

“That’s not it at all,” Viktor replied with a weak pout. “Yuuri is always eager to beat me. Board games, janken, whatever the case may be. I haven’t picked dinner in ages.”

Yurio took the opportunity to serve the ball Yuuri had handed back to him into Viktor’s face. Everyone giggled (including Viktor) and Yuuri sat back on the lounge chair. He locked eyes with Viktor for just a moment and knew his excuse had been seen through. Concern. He glanced away. There was absolutely no reason for him to waste their time with his own anxieties. Not on vacation.

After Yurio won his first senior gold, they’d all agreed to go on vacation to celebrate. Viktor had been hell bent on a tropical island at least six to seven hours away, but he got shot down by Yuko who insisted they weren’t all independently wealthy. Thus, their collective families had ended up in Okinawa. The resort was beautiful, but so were the people. Couples and foreigners and strangers with bodies that looked like they were made for swimsuits.

Yuuri’s was crammed into his jacket. It wasn’t horrible, if he rationalized it. He was thick. Chubby in a few places, but still strong and slim with his limbs. Still, he couldn’t help but remember his lithe torso from just a year prior. He couldn’t help but remember Viktor peeling off his free program costume and kissing his tummy. He remembered feeling like his idol was so lucky to get to kiss **him.** Where had that gone?

Straight to my gut.

He was miserably hot. Sweat was dripping down his back and he made every effort to fan himself with his jacket, but to no avail. He wanted to strip and hit the water if for no other reason than to cool off, but he resisted. Something like a panic attack was swelling in his chest. He breathed most of it away.

The triplets abandoned the screen. The three of them and Nishigori leaped in to join Yurio’s warfront. Yuuri lay back, arms wrapped over his torso. If he kept still, he wouldn’t get too hot – but he didn’t listen to his own consciousness and peered over to watch them play. A smile spread across his cheeks and his fingertips jittered. Those were all of his people out there in that pool. Too perfect to resist. He jumped up and ran to the edge of the water to referee for them.

“About time,” Yurio jeered. “You two had better be ready.”

Relief from the heat came to Yuuri in the form of splashes hitting his bare lower legs. Yurio, Nishigori and the girls proved a vicious but unstable force, while Yuko and Viktor were still in sync but getting tired.

“This has gotten unfair,” Viktor mused, missing the ball.

“Only commenting on injustice in your own favor!” Yurio roared. “Throw it back.”

“Maybe we should stop,” Yuko giggled.

Yuuri noticed his vision blurring and rubbed his eyes. Something wrong with the contacts? He blinked, but the haziness only increased. Panic attack?

He turned away to sit down, but tripped over his own feet before he could make it. His vision wasn’t just blurring. It was darkening. He braced himself on the concrete and crumpled down, but he didn’t have the energy to hiss about his scraped palms. No worse than ice, anyway.

Panic attack. He reached for his pulse.

No, too slow.

The splashing stilled and a chorus of cries hit his ears. He couldn’t answer. He could still see, but he was blacking out.

~

When Yuuri woke up his back was down on a fully made hotel bed. Not Viktor’s work. Housekeeping had come and gone. His coat was off but his swim shorts remained. He sat up, felt woozy and went back down. A table fan was whirring nearby, cooling his sweat and giving him shivers. He dragged a sheet out from under himself, knocking off an open but resealed bottle of water at his fingertips in the process.

He’d been alone, but the little volley of sounds grabbed Viktor’s attention from the hall.

“Yuuri,” he breathed out, pure relief. He rushed over. “Drink the water.”

It occurred to Yuuri quickly. Second nature. He wasn’t wearing anything. He dragged the sheet up to his neck. Then he cringed. No one but Viktor would have taken it off in the first place. He’d already seen. Of course he’d already seen, he saw all the time, but Yuuri couldn’t break off the memory of the pool, of meeting him, of crushing down the fat in his body with his arms to pretend like it wasn’t there, to pretend he hadn’t binged his way through a crippling loss so long ago.

Viktor sat at the edge of the mattress and picked the bottle up. He’d been beside himself with distress. Yuuri could tell by his heavy eyelids. If the always carefree Viktor had gotten worried, then he’d surely interrupted the joy of vacation for everyone else. Breathing shallowly, Yuuri took the bottle for a few sips.

“You overheated,” Viktor explained. “I didn’t realize you hadn’t had any water. You know better,” he chided, lips forming a weak scowl. “You keep yourself expertly hydrated in rink conditions, how could you-”

“I didn’t think about it.”

Viktor’s expression softened. Yuuri put the water bottle down immediately.

“What is it about the water, Yuuri?” Viktor offered his arms. Yuuri began to lean in, but jerked a bit. Then back. Into the headboard instead of into Viktor. This time, it was panic. He took a deep breath. Panic about panic. This was an absolute mess. With this little hiccup, he’d managed to derail the afternoon, worry Viktor -

“Nothing. I really wasn’t feeling up to it.” His hands strayed to his abdomen and looped around it once more.

“Yuuri, can you not swim?”

“I can swim.”

“Whatever is wrong, you can tell me.” Viktor reached out and stroked his fingertips up Yuuri’s jaw, his cheek, and into the black locks above his ears. But Yuuri had lost track at his cheek. Fuller than before. “You know that, don’t you? After all this, you must know.”

“I don’t know if I can tell you this.”

“So you’ll keep it inside?” Viktor murmured. “Yuuri, I know you’ve been dealing with something. You’ve been out of sorts for weeks. I never want to push you, but I want you to know I’m here. Don’t let whatever is bothering you stay like poison. Especially not for me.”

“It’s already bothering you, too. I know it.”

“What?”

“When we do it,” Yuuri replied, heating rising to his face. God, what a mess. Of course Viktor could still make him flush, but this was a nightmare. “You won’t touch my stomach. You kiss my mouth, maybe my neck, and that’s it. You skip my thighs if you’re lower. I’ve noticed for months, but I’m not angry. I know my body is disgusting. I know it’s icky again, but now we’re here, and everyone looks so… so slim, in their swimsuits.”

“Yuuri,” Viktor whispered, hands falling to the bed.

“I’m such an idiot,” Yuuri groaned, burying his face in his knees. “Here’s the old Yuuri, chubby and blubbering at you. I hope you missed him. I’m so stupid. This is so stupid. Forget I said anything. The way you touch me is already fine, I just-”

“Yuuri!” Viktor cried. “Do you think I look at your body and see your extra weight?”

“Well-”

“For how many months have you been quiet about the way I touch you? About not liking it? Why weren’t you telling me? You always speak up and tell me what you want. You always,” Viktor paused. “Have I been doing that? Have I been skipping – have I really been neglecting you?”

“N-not…No, I just-”

“Yuuri,” Viktor wrapped his arms around his waist and dragged him close, sheet still between them. “Yuuri, you stun me. Every day you’re more lovely than the last and I keep wondering when I’m going to faint knowing you’re mine. If it seemed like I was neglecting you, it’s because I was being sloppy, not evasive. Every inch of you is perfect.”

“You don’t have to lie about it,” Yuuri gasped. He made a concentrated effort to flatten his stomach, holding his breath. “It’s awful. I should be working it off.”

“What for?” Viktor snapped. “You’re healthy.”

“The night we met in person, you told me I had to lose weight or you’d leave. You called me a pig.”

Viktor froze.

“I know why you did,” Yuuri managed, tears swelling in the corners of his eyes. “I know it wasn’t the body weight for figure skating. I know you wanted me to have that body so I would win. I know you knew who was watching me, but I… when I was slim, I know I could really excite you. I felt worshiped by you. I shouldn’t look like this. It’s not what you prefer.”

“Let the sheet down,” Viktor urged suddenly. He was in a position where he could have dragged it down, but he didn’t move to do so. He grasped Yuuri’s shoulders and slipped back a few inches to make space. His eyes seemed to burn.

“N-no.”

“Yuuri,” Viktor said again, in a way only Viktor could. Demanding but without force. It was like a little voice just for Yuuri, telling him exactly what he needed to hear to move forward – when he might not have been strong enough to move forward on his own. Not without love.

Yuuri squinted and tears rolled out of his eyes. He shimmied out of the sheet and shivered. His pecs were still flat and sculpted, but the belly beneath was just as round and full as it had been back then. He kept his eyes closed and waited for a word. Maybe Viktor would suggest some sort of training. Maybe he’d agree and leave him to figure it out. Something was off. He was different. Not the same. Yuuri knew it.

Yuuri’s eyes flew open. Viktor had drawn a fingertip down the center of his chest. He flipped his hand and caressed the flesh of his tummy with the same tenderness he’d afforded Yuuri’s cheek.

“What are you doing?” Yuuri managed, weak. He wanted to be angry about attention being drawn to his gut, but this – the touch – unmistakably the touch he knew and loved. Would melt for in an instant. He met Viktor’s eyes.

“As your coach, my purpose was to get a gold medal around your neck. I did know who was watching. I knew you had to be slim if you were going to get a fair score from any seated judge in the Grand Prix series. So I gave you an order,” Viktor replied, narrowing his eyes. Yuuri swallowed hard and glanced down between them. Viktor’s fingertips had paused at the waistband of his shorts. Yuuri flushed. No part of him wanted to refuse. Every part wanted Viktor – but not out of lust. He felt vulnerable and awful and Viktor always crushed those feelings and replaced them with love.

“I’m not your coach, Yuuri. Not anymore. I wasn’t only your coach that season,” Viktor whispered. “You are my love. My soul.” He leaned into Yuuri’s neck and pressed his lips against the soft flesh beneath his ear.

Yuuri flicked like a switch and grasped the man’s shoulders, dragging him down into the comfort of the sheets. Only his face remained tear stained and weary. Viktor grasped Yuuri’s waist and hoisted him higher up the mattress. He trailed an open, hungry mouth down Yuuri’s skin, kissing and mouthing and tasting every inch he could get to. He held his cheek against Yuuri’s heart and tenderly stroked his belly like another lover might have stroked a full breast.

“This body is beautiful. It’s all the katsudon, all the drinks, all the mornings we never got out of bed. The leisurely strolls and movie nights and popcorn. Yuuri,” Viktor whispered. “My purpose as your lover is to love you. Your body fluctuates easily, but because it does I get to see all the evidence of my love, no matter what form it takes.”

Yuuri wrapped his arms around the man’s head, face sliding into his lengthening hair. He took a deep breath in and moaned weakly. Viktor waited patiently for some kind of response, his heart thudding. Then he slid his tongue down so he could nip and kiss full flesh. Yuuri giggled and smashed the man closer.

“You’re the worst,” he whispered.

“ **Yuuri,** ” Viktor whined dramatically. “I just gave one of my best romantic speeches-”

“I’m sorry, I was teasing you,” Yuuri whispered. “I didn’t want to cry anymore.”

Viktor kissed his belly. “You won’t have to. I’m not finished.”

“Hey, hang on, Vik-”

“I’m not convinced,” Viktor added. He sat up and flipped Yuuri on to his back, leaning down so their bodies slid together. Viktor’s still bare pool bound chest and belly against Yuuri’s. He was deliberate. He settled down closer like he loved the warmth and comfort. “I’ve been neglecting you, it seems. I’m not sure you know how much I adore this body, Yuuri. Your body.”

Yuuri turned a new shade of red.

“I want to know how much.”

Viktor wasted not a moment. He sealed his lover’s lips with a hungry kiss and Yuuri spread his legs as if by instinct. The dark haired man flexed up and reached back to grab Viktor’s backside, but the older knocked his arm down with a flick of his shoulder.

“I’m touching you, Yuuri.”

Yuuri was silenced by tender kisses on his stomach. The edges were lined with stretch marks. He knew exactly where they were and how dark. They were under his ass too, stretched and relaxed and stretched again by the reshaping of his chubby thighs. Viktor seemed to know them just as intimately. He pressed his tongue into the corner of a stripe and scooped through it as if it were hollow, leaving a warm indent on Yuuri’s flesh. He whimpered a little, breathing unsteadily. More lips. More nuzzles on his stomach. Viktor’s skin was so warm, and Yuuri could just barely see the pleasant smile on his lips.

“I won’t spare an inch of you,” Viktor whispered. He kissed his way back up, mouthing the tender patches of extra flesh between and beneath Yuuri’s ribs. He nudged pink nipples with the tip of his tongue, a concentrated but gentle force that made Yuuri whimper again.

“S-skip my arms.”

“Why would I do that?” Viktor hummed, nibbling Yuuri’s collarbone.

“I want you to stay down there,” Yuuri smirked, a sliver of his sexual confidence breaking through.

Viktor felt a swell of relief in his chest. This felt like his Yuuri. His Yuuri who had blown away the competition at the Grand Prix.

His Yuuri who could truly conquer any mountain.

**Author's Note:**

> Janken = rock paper scissors.
> 
> Feedback, prompts, requests all welcomed! <3


End file.
